


Sing Terribly Afar

by softlyforgotten



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco, Phantom Planet, The Young Veins
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-22
Updated: 2011-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-22 22:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softlyforgotten/pseuds/softlyforgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex didn't fuck Ryan very much, to Ryan's continual disappointment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sing Terribly Afar

It was slipping into late afternoon when Ryan made his way back to the bus. The shadows were lengthening, and the carpark was just starting to get busy again, the first band for the night about to start. Ryan straightened the cuffs of his shirt and caught a glimpse of himself in the darkened window of another bus. He pulled up short and tidied his hair as best he could with his fingers, then held his own gaze for a long moment before he turned away.

Jon tapped his ankle lightly in greeting when Ryan went up the steps. "Hey," he said, and Ryan grinned at him, quick and pleased.

"Spencer and Brendon here?" Ryan asked.

"Spencer's off doing something with Zach," Jon said. "But Brendon's in there."

Ryan raised his eyebrows. "Any idea when Spencer will get back?"

"Nah," Jon said, and shrugged. "But we've still got a while before we have to get ready."

Ryan nodded, and went up the last few steps.

"Ryan," Jon said, and Ryan turned on the doorstep. Jon drew in a breath. "Um, you know you're kind of—"

Ryan waited.

After a moment, Jon stood up and said, "I'm going to go find something to eat."

"See you," Ryan said.

Brendon was texting someone, feet propped up on the table in their little kitchenette, frowning at the screen of his cell. He didn’t look up at Ryan’s entrance, but Ryan watched his shoulders stiffen. Ryan touched Brendon's hair lightly on his way to the fridge, where he got out one of the fruit boxes Spencer had been stockpiling and drank it, sweet and cold.

When he looked up, Brendon was watching him. "I was looking for you, before," he said.

"I was hanging out with Alex," Ryan told him.

"You weren't on his bus."

"I was, for a while," Ryan said. "Maybe I just missed you or something."

"Maybe," Brendon muttered, almost sulky. Ryan raised his eyebrows, and Brendon said, "You've been spending a lot of time with him lately."

"What?" Ryan laughed, rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand. It smeared sticky from the apple juice. "Uh, okay? Yes?"

Brendon folded his arms and said, "Yeah, well. It's kind of hard not to notice."

Ryan blinked at him. "Is this you being jealous?" he asked.

Brendon clattered to his feet, glaring, and oh, Ryan thought, oh, he was mad, he'd managed to work himself into a state of righteous indignation and this was it, show time. "Of what?" he said. "Of – of my guitarist hanging out with new people? My friend? Tell me, Ryan, tell me what you are this week so I know what to be jealous of—"

"You're a boring kind of jealous," Ryan told him, and walked away.

He unbuttoned his shirt, tossed it over a chair on his way past. He didn't get hot easily, but today was warm and he was still buzzing in his skin, a little sore in a way that sent something stirring in him. He got out his own cell and opened a new text, from Alex: _dude what the fuck did you take my sunglasses?? that's not nice_. Ryan grinned and took the sunglasses on top of his head off, putting them in his bunk. They were Alex's, though he hadn't realised until now. Maybe he'd try and insist that they had been his all along.

Brendon came into the narrow corridor. Ryan looked up and opened his mouth and then Brendon was on him, mouth hot against Ryan's, clenching his hand in Ryan's hair. Ryan gasped, dropping his cell, and Brendon leaned back against the bunks and pulled Ryan towards him, enough that Brendon could slide his leg between Ryan's and rub up against him. Ryan licked at Brendon's mouth messily, and Brendon bit his bottom lip hard enough to make Ryan curse.

"You're just an asshole," Brendon said, pulling back. "You do it to be an asshole," and Ryan laughed a little. Brendon pushed him, and Ryan stumbled, caught himself on the rails of the top bunk. He closed his eyes for a moment, smiling. Fuck, but he loved it when Brendon was like this, when Brendon couldn't decide whether he wanted to climb on top of Ryan or punch him in the face.

Brendon said, "You laugh at me, but you're just – I fucking hate you sometimes, Ryan." He fisted his hand in Ryan's hair again, yanking Ryan's head back for a kiss. Ryan was already standing awkwardly, and it didn't help his balance when Brendon pressed up behind him, rubbed against Ryan. Ryan could feel how hard he was. He breathed in sharply, forehead resting against the cold metal of the top bunk. Brendon rocked against him again and Ryan curled his fingers around the rails of the bunk so he didn't fall, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Brendon dropped his head and bit Ryan's shoulder, and Ryan hissed and arched backwards, thought about the bruise that would leave.

"Fuck," Brendon said. "I don't fucking understand you at all, I don't get why you have to be so—"

He shoved at Ryan again, knocking him forward, and Ryan bit his lip. Brendon curled one arm around Ryan's waist and pulled him back against Brendon, tight and possessive, and Ryan was completely off-balance, now, pushed forward awkwardly with his head almost bowed and his legs spread, ass back against Brendon's hips. Brendon slid his hand down, and cupped Ryan through his pants, hand hot and firm through the material. Ryan made a tiny, surprised sound.

"If you'd just _talk_ for once," Brendon was saying, but he wasn't doing much to encourage that, fingers quick on the fly of Ryan's trousers, tugging them down. He breathed in sharply when he saw Ryan wasn't wearing underwear and curled his hand around Ryan's cock again, stroking him. It wasn't fast enough, but Brendon's hand was dry, so maybe he was just trying to be considerate. Brendon let his fingers drift across Ryan's skin, pinching at Ryan's thighs and making Ryan gasp again, palming his hip.

Brendon leaned forward and pressed a kiss just beneath Ryan's ear. "I don't understand you at all," he said again, but it was quieter, almost fond, and Ryan squeezed his eyes closed so hard he saw red and then black. He didn't apologise, not even in advance. Brendon's hand moved in and around and then stopped, Brendon frozen behind him, and Ryan was hardly breathing, Brendon's fingers brushing light against where he was still open and slick.

"Ryan," Brendon said.

Alex didn't fuck Ryan very often, much to Ryan's disappointment. Mostly they met in tiny tucked away places, between amps, behind a bus, and it wasn't really conducive to fucking. Alex would finger him and jerk him off and Ryan would blow Alex and then they would clean up a little and collapse against each other and make out, lazy and unhurried. Sometimes they wrote music. It was always easy, they never fought.

Today, though, Ryan had been persuasive and Alex’s multiband shared bus had been nearly empty. Only Chris and Darren and Sam had been in the front lounge, watching a movie loud enough that they could justify crawling into Alex's bunk and fucking with Ryan's knees pulled up to his chest, Alex giggling and cheerful above him. Alex had bumped his head three times, and once he'd cursed loud enough that the others had paused the movie to try and work out what the noise was. Ryan had squirmed up until Alex could clasp Ryan against him and Ryan could bury his face against Alex's shoulder and laugh as silently as he could. Alex was pretty slow about things, unhurried in a way that usually annoyed Ryan, but he had a nice cock, thick, and it dragged inside Ryan in a way that made every part of him burn. Alex was lazy about preparation, too. Ryan was still pretty sore, the way he liked it.

"You were," Brendon said. He sounded very far away. "You were fucking him, that's what you were doing – you made me think I was being an idiot but you were, you were." Ryan didn't say anything. Brendon laughed, short and harried. "God," he said, "I can't even – really it's kind of stupid I didn't see it earlier, huh," and Ryan wanted to listen, he knew he should be, he deserved this, but Brendon hadn't moved his hand and his other hand was still knotted in Ryan's hair and his fingers were pressed, too light, maddening, against Ryan. Ryan whined and pushed back against them, and Brendon started, but it was okay, it was alright, his fingers slid in anyway, two of them, not wet but just right, all that Ryan wanted.

"Ryan," Brendon said, still with the awful, hollow note in his voice, and he pulled his hand back.

Ryan twisted back onto him, fast as he could, stumbling forward and banging his head against the bunk as he did so. " _Please_ ," he said. Brendon was utterly still for a moment behind him, and then he twisted his fingers in hard and fast, up to the knuckles, curling inside Ryan. Ryan moaned and dropped his head, fingers clasped tight around the bars of the top bunk.

"I can't believe you," Brendon hissed. "Jesus, you've got nerve." He kicked at Ryan's feet, making him spread more, and Ryan stumbled and tripped again but he did it. Brendon said, "What the fuck, you – you want me to fuck you, how fucking greedy are you, Ryan? Can you tell me is there – is there a way you can be more selfish, 'cos I'm trying to work it out and—"

"No," Ryan said, and Brendon thrust his fingers in again, hard, unmerciful, and Ryan cried out. "Please," he said.

"You're going to have to say it," Brendon said. "You want to – you want to be this guy, you're going to have to say it out loud."

Ryan didn't like that, hated it when Brendon forced him to admit things, and some days it felt like everything he ever said to Brendon was an admission. He wanted it, though, and he owed Brendon a hell of a lot.

"Fuck me," he said. "Please."

Brendon stepped back abruptly, pulling his fingers out of Ryan, and Ryan gasped, falling forward from the surprise, wondering what he had fucked up, there. He was too eager, he knew, but he always was, and Brendon liked him eager, and unless this was punishment, getting Ryan worked up and then leaving him, oh, fuck, what if that was it, what if—

"Get in the bunk," Brendon said, rough, and Ryan closed his eyes and breathed out with relief. Then Brendon pushed up against him, demanding, and Ryan hurried to kick off his shoes, stepping out of where his pants had pooled around his ankles and climbing into Brendon's bunk.

He watched as Brendon stripped off his own clothes. Brendon paused for a second, standing with his face out of sight above Ryan. Ryan waited, quiet. Brendon would come to him. He knew it now, with Brendon's hands shaking like that, Brendon was always like this when Ryan had fucked him up some more and Brendon still wasn't walking away. One day he actually would, Ryan guessed, but Ryan had never been especially talented at crisis prevention.

Brendon climbed in, straddling Ryan and reaching over him to pull out a condom tucked in the corner of his bed. He rolled it on and Ryan stared, licked his lips, greedy, wondering if Brendon would let Ryan suck him, but a second later Brendon was shifting back, so he supposed not today. It was hard to manage in the bunks, anyway, at least not without a lot of rolling around and Brendon lying on his back, and Ryan doubted Brendon would let Ryan get on top just now.

Brendon reached for lube, too, adding to the slight slick on the condom, and Ryan breathed out. He'd wondered, for a moment, if Brendon would bother, Ryan still open and wet from Alex. It would have hurt, though, maybe more than Ryan liked, and Brendon wasn't very good at hurting Ryan.

"Stop fucking looking at me like that," Brendon said, and Ryan blinked up at him, didn't know what to say. Brendon leaned down and kissed him, their dicks pressing together, Brendon sprawled between Ryan's legs, and Ryan groaned and wrapped his arms around Brendon, tugged him down close, licked into Brendon's mouth. Brendon was hot and demanding and perfect on top of Ryan, and he still kissed the same way he had when he was sixteen, when Ryan had thought Brendon was the only thing in the world that he needed. Probably Brendon was, but Ryan wasn't very good at learning how not to want. Ryan wanted more and more every day, and every day he was turning more and more into someone who could get it. Ryan was pretty sure this kind of viciousness was being happy.

Brendon pulled back, sat between Ryan's legs and grabbed at Ryan's thighs, pushing them apart. Ryan was already spread, Brendon didn't need to do that, but it made Ryan ache and it was so good, Brendon's fingers digging into his skin. Ryan would bruise, later. Brendon leaned forward and bit at his neck, just above his collarbone, and Ryan moaned, thought about all the places he would be able to touch, all the ways Brendon would leave his mark.

"Listen to me," Brendon said, and pushed his fingers in again. Ryan moaned, arching his hips up, bearing down on them, Brendon's other hand still digging into his thigh. "Listen to _me_ ," Brendon said again, like he was frustrated, and Ryan wondered when Brendon thought he had stopped.

"Yeah," he managed, and Brendon closed his eyes, his throat working. Ryan wanted to kiss him, but Brendon was pinning him down, firm hand and clever fingers.

"It's just – we can't do this," Brendon said. "We can't, I can't, Ryan, not if you're going to – Alex fucking Greenwald, Jesus Christ, do you have to have everyone? Can you – can you not like someone without having them fuck you?"

Ryan said, "I don't think that would be that fun for you."

"You've never been fun," Brendon said. He pulled his fingers out roughly and Ryan whined, pushing his hips into the air as well as he could with Brendon's hand on his thigh. Brendon lined himself up and stared for a moment, and Ryan twisted his head from side to side, pushed up. Brendon's cock was so close, fucking teasing him. Except it wasn't teasing, Ryan knew, not really. Brendon's eyes were dark, mouth twisting down unhappily.

" _Please_ ," Ryan said, and Brendon slammed in. Ryan gasped, hands scrabbling for grip on the sheets, but Brendon didn't give him a chance to recover, pushing him down into the mattress, fucking him harder than Ryan was used to, harder than he'd had in a long, long time. Ryan's thighs were burning from Brendon forcing them apart and he was too full, too sore, he'd thought he could handle it after Alex but maybe he couldn't, maybe it was too much.

"So fucking _greedy_ ," Brendon said, and Ryan cried out, arching up towards Brendon as far as he could.

Ryan had already been fucked once this afternoon, and then he'd spent half an hour feeling hot and prickly with it, the ache, and it was too much now; Brendon stretching him open, forcing him open with every thrust. Ryan wasn't going to give this up, he knew it and he'd always known it. If anyone was going to walk away it was going to have to be Brendon, because Ryan wanted everything and he'd take everything he could get. Brendon leaned down, panting above him, and Ryan kissed him messily. He twisted his hands in Brendon's hair, and when Brendon's hips snapped forward again he cried out, smothered against Brendon's mouth.

Brendon pulled back, pulled out, and Ryan gasped. "No," he said, "no, come—"

"Turn over," Brendon said.

Ryan blinked at him, confused, and then Brendon's hands were on him again, helping him flip. Ryan got up on his knees and rested his elbows against the mattress and his cheek against the pillow that smelled like Brendon. Brendon's hands were on his hips, steadying him. It made Ryan smile, that Brendon did it even when Brendon was so angry at him. It was good, too, especially when Brendon pushed in again, hard enough that Ryan wobbled, legs unsteady beneath him.

Brendon was panting, leaning forward so Ryan could feel it hot against his back. "So fucking – Ryan," he said, "even after him, you're still so tight, you're still—"

"Harder," Ryan said, "c'mon."

Brendon laughed, harsh and hoarse, like he'd been screaming for hours. "You still want me," he said breathlessly, "even after him, you still—"

" _Please_ ," Ryan said again, because Brendon knew him too well, so what the fuck, it didn't matter, Ryan might as well beg and keep begging.

Brendon stretched out over him. They were more used to fucking in bunks than Alex, or at least more used to doing it together, and Brendon didn't bump his head. He pressed his chest up against Ryan's back and gripped onto Ryan's wrists, pinned them above Ryan's head so that he slipped forward from his knees. Brendon's cock slid deeper into Ryan, filling him up, and Ryan moaned, twitching, unable to move with Brendon pinning him down and holding him tight. Brendon couldn't fuck him as hard like this, but it was almost worth it for the hot press of their skin together, the way Brendon was filling him up, hot and hard inside Ryan.

"Fuck," Ryan gasped, "fuck."

"Just – you just take it," Brendon said. "God, Ryan."

"Touch me," Ryan said, "please, come on—"

"No," Brendon said, "you don't need it, just me," and ground his cock in hard. Ryan arched backwards and came, untouched, shaking apart with Brendon trapping him above so he couldn't escape. It was a good feeling. He didn't have much time to savour it, though, Brendon slamming into him, the slap of their skin together and Brendon's uneven, fast breaths above him. Brendon had stopped talking, which was a pretty good indication that he was close, and Ryan was shivering and oversensitive, clenching down tight around Brendon.

Brendon sank his teeth into Ryan's shoulder again when he came, hips jerking, falling down on top of him like he couldn't hold himself up a moment longer. Ryan closed his eyes and breathed in. Brendon was plastered on top of him, too hot, lying with Ryan's legs forced out on either side of him. He was still _inside_ Ryan. Ryan turned his head as well as he could, found Brendon closer than expected, and tried to touch his mouth to Brendon's chin.

Brendon sat up and pulled out, and Ryan bit his lip at the loss. He rummaged around for a while and Ryan heard the rustle of a plastic bag before Brendon got rid of the condom and flopped back down beside Ryan. Ryan stared at him, and Brendon stared back.

"Brendon," Ryan said, when he couldn't take Brendon watching him anymore, when it was too much.

"I wish you wouldn't do this to me," Brendon said, very quietly.

Ryan kind of wished it, too, but only in the way he wished all impossible things, feeling unselfish just in the act of dreaming. He thought about Alex; couldn't help thinking about Alex, the same way he was thinking about Brendon, the two of them present in him every time he moved. He was sore and marked up and he wanted to recline somewhere and feel smug about it, but Brendon wouldn't stop looking at him.

Ryan leaned in and kissed Brendon, softly, fingers tentative on Brendon's face, and Brendon didn't pull away. "I love you," Ryan told him, without opening his eyes. He could still feel their fingers all over him.

"I wish you wouldn't, Ryan," Brendon said, but he lay quiet and still beside Ryan for a long while. They weren't exactly cuddling, Ryan thought, or at least not in Brendon's usual style, but Brendon didn't shy away from touching him, lying close together, facing each other. Brendon had his eyes closed. Ryan kissed the tip of Brendon's nose but Brendon didn't react.

"Brendon," he whispered. Brendon didn't say anything. Ryan smoothed Brendon's hair away from where it was sticking, sweaty, to his forehead with a clumsy hand.

"What do you want me to say?" Ryan asked. "Do you want me to apologise?"

Brendon didn't say a word, and Ryan sighed and kissed the corner of Brendon's mouth, sweet as he could. Brendon was pretty sweet, Ryan thought. Ryan thought about when they had been young and frightened, and how the first time Brendon had kissed him he'd been off-balance and clumsy with it, and Ryan had had to stop him, take Brendon's glasses off. Brendon had said, _but now I can't see you_ , like that made it less.

"Guys!" Jon called from outside the bus, and Ryan sighed.

"We've got to get ready," he said.

Brendon opened his eyes and looked straight at Ryan. Then he slid out of the bunk. "C'mon, then."

Ryan nodded and sat up, shifting uncertainly, adjusting his weight. He'd feel them all tonight, the ache of it, and it made him shiver as he got dressed again. When he turned around, Brendon was watching him, dark-eyed and possessive, and Ryan thought about all the claims Brendon had on him, all the ways Brendon knew him that Ryan didn't think anyone else ever would.

He touched his mouth, where it was swollen, where it hurt. If he hurried, he could still catch Phantom Planet's set.


End file.
